The valley was desolate this afternoon. Out with my dog, we came across only a single couple in 2 and half hours. We were greeted at the gate by a dead partially submerged pheasant in the river, caught flapping in the flow, on a couple of rocks, his red head beaming like a target.
The air was damp, and on the way up a light drizzle started to quietly drench the mossy dry stone walls and blacken the bark of the ancient twisting trees, revealing soft but complex textures.
Paddy my springer spaniel was in a typically explorative mood, weaving up and down the undulating paths and jutted mounds, seemingly covering every square inch.
On the way back home, a beautiful mist had softly settled, and the landscape really began to reveal itself. A real pleasure to be out.